


FIRE AND BLOOD▹L. LAUFEYSON [1]

by EdxnWood



Series: Dragon Mother [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Dragons, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 09:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15603435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdxnWood/pseuds/EdxnWood
Summary: [BOOK ONE]"I am the dragon's daughter."***Even the nights brought no relief. Khal Loki ignored her when they rode, even as hehad ignored her during their wedding, and spent his evenings drinking with his warriorsand bloodriders, racing his prize horses, watching women dance and men die. Dany hadno place in these parts of his life. She was left to sup alone, or with Ser Jorah and herbrother, and afterward to cry herself to sleep. Yet every night, some time before thedawn, Loki would come to her tent and wake her in the dark, to ride her as relentlesslyas he rode his stallion. He always took her from behind, Dothraki fashion, for whichDany was grateful; that way her lord husband could not see the tears that wet her face,and she could use her pillow to muffle her cries of pain. When he was done, he wouldclose his eyes and begin to snore softly and Dany would lie beside him, her body bruisedand sore, hurting too much for sleep.***Published - 03.12.2018Completed - 04.19.2018





	1. INTRODUCTION

** INTRODUCTION **

**author's note:**

First and foremost I'd like to dedicate my Dragon Mother series to two amazing people who have inspired me to write my own stories (Located at the bottom due to complications)! 

I put so much effort into the stories that I have written (well, this one for sure, but also future stories), and though they might have some mistakes, I'm glad that people have come here and read my story. So, with that, I'd like to go over some fundamental points: 

**1.**  I'm going to change some of the plots in order to fit in the Thor movies, especially Loki, so Drogo wouldn't even be in this story, though Dany's main dragon is going to be named Drogon because I don't want to change his name (cause I love it). 

**2.** I do this for fun, so please don't correct me on any grammar mistakes, I go over my stories and find anything that's wrong! 

**3.** I do not own any characters in this book (duh!), they all belong to either Marvel or George R.R. Martin. 

**4.**  This book was inspired by bloodrose's book Roses, which is currently unpublished.

In conclusion, I hope all of you fall in love with both Loki's and Dany's relationship and the ups and downs of them. I also hope all of you find a home in these characters as I did and find something within yourselves! 

I wish you all love reading each and every word as I did writing them!

Mischief Managed,

**EDEN WOOD**

 

**DEDICATIONS:**

[bloodrose](https://www.wattpad.com/user/bloodrose)

[IIIiSABELBOOKSIII](https://www.wattpad.com/user/IIIiSABELBOOKSIII)


	2. BOOK ONE

❝  _I am the dragon's daughter_ _._ ❞ 

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**COPYRIGHT © EDXNWOOD 2018**

_ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS PUBLICATION MAY BE REPRODUCED, DISTRIBUTED, OR TRANSMITTED BY ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, INCLUDING PHOTOCOPYING, REWRITING, HE OR OTHER ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL METHODS, WITHOUT THE PRIOR WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER, EXCEPT IN THE CASE OF BRIEF QUOTATIONS EMBODIED IN CRITICAL REVIEWS AND CERTAIN OTHER NONCOMMERCIAL USES PERMITTED BY COPYRIGHT LAW. I DO NOT OWN DAENERYS, THE GAME OF THRONES PLOT, BESIDES THE PLOTS THAT I MAKE UP ALONG THE WAY, AND I DO NOT OWN LOKI AND THE THOR MOVIES._

▆▆▆▆ ▆▆▆▆

**WARNING: THIS BOOK MIGHT FEATURE STRONG CONTENT MEANT FOR MATURE AUDIENCES.**

▆▆▆▆ ▆▆▆▆ 

**_BOOK ONE OF THE DRAGON MOTHER SERIES._ **

**_FEATURES:_ **

_GAME OF THRONES SEASON 1_

▆▆▆▆ ▆▆▆▆

Even the nights brought no relief. Khal Loki ignored her when they rode, even as he had ignored her during their wedding, and spent his evenings drinking with his warriors and bloodriders, racing his prize horses, watching women dance and men die. Dany had no place in these parts of his life. She was left to sup alone, or with Ser Jorah and her brother, and afterward to cry herself to sleep. Yet every night, some time before the dawn, Loki would come to her tent and wake her in the dark, to ride her as relentlessly as he rode his stallion. He always took her from behind, Dothraki fashion, for which Dany was grateful; that way her lord husband could not see the tears that wet her face, and she could use her pillow to muffle her cries of pain. When he was done, he would close his eyes and begin to snore softly and Dany would lie beside him, her body bruised and sore, hurting too much for sleep.


	3. CAST & PLAYLIST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DDZ2PMmxL3o

**STARRING**

**EMILIA CLARKE**  
 _as_   **DAENERYS TARGARYEN**

**DRAGON MOTHER**

**TOM HIDDLESTON**   
_as_ **LOKI LAUFEYSON**

**TRICKSTER GOD**

**AND**

**GAME OF THRONES CAST**  
 _as_   **THEMSELVES**

▆▆▆▆    ▆▆▆▆

**I.** FIRE AND BLOOD  
 _by_  RAMIN DJAWADI

**II.** LOVE IN THE EYES  
 _by_  RAMIN DJAWADI

**I** **II** **.** FINALE  
 _by_ RAMIN DJAWADI

**I** **V**. SCOTLAND  
 _by_  THE LUMINEERS

**V** **.** WHEN THE SUN RISES IN THE WEST  
 _by_  RAMIN DJAWADI

**VI.** I FOUND  
 _by_ AMBER RUN

▆▆▆▆    ▆▆▆▆

**DAENERYS TARGARYEN**

❝  _Mother of Dragons_  ❞

     


	4. EPIGRAPH

  ❝  _Her father had been slain before she was born, and her splendid brother Rhaegar as well. Her mother had died bringing her into the world while the storm screamed outside. Gentle Ser William Darry, who must have loved her after a fashion, had been taken by a wasting sickness when she was very young. Khal Loki who was her sun and stars, even her unborn son. The Gods claimed them all._  ❞  

**━ DAENERYS, A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE**


	5. PROLOGUE

**EVER SINCE DAENERYS WAS LITTLE, SHE** was told she was a princess, though she didn't know what they meant or how it felt like. Her brother, Viserys, one of the last Targaryens in the world, had always told her that  _he_  was the dragon, not her and that she was just a weakling that would get killed one day. She didn't want to be killed, especially at her young ripe age of thirteen, so she kept her mouth shut.

Except for one man. The man her brother had sold her to, her husband, taught her to speak out in all ways, either fighting with weapons or words or be cunning, find a loophole in their argument and stick to that false claim. 

She worked with that, but now she has three dragons by her side, and she didn't need to use weapons. 

She was the _Mother of Dragons._


	6. 1. HOUSE TARGARYEN

**IN PENTOS, ACROSS THE NARROW SEA FROM WESTEROS,**  Daenerys watched the water in the sea rise and fall like deep breaths, seagulls flying high above her without a care in the world━ except for the ones that actually had to catch some food━ but otherwise, she wanted to be soaring high above the clouds like them, a smile on her face as she rode on the back of a large dragon. Despite her brother being malicious and cruel, she still pictured him on a dragon of his own, riding beside her as  _equals._  She felt her dress fluttering in the wind, but her hair stayed in place, the curtain behind her waving in the wind softly. The tan sand of the beach was beautiful on a midsummer's day, the boiling hot sun smiling down at both her and it, warming her already hot skin to leave her feeling great. 

Until she heard her brother's voice call out to her.

"Daenerys!" He calls out from within the home, making her sigh and her deep trance-like state fade away, her blue-violet eyes falling. Her head turns slightly towards the bath chambers, hoping her brother didn't call out for her any longer. It didn't work. "Daenerys!" Viserys watches a maid pass by, then sees his sister's outline in the curtains, her eyes watching him. "There's our bride-to-be!" He begins walking, his stare not wavering once, watching Daenerys walk into the chambers, letting her see the fabric that was splayed across his arms. His hair, his eyes, his skin color all haunted her; they were the same as hers, and, despite trying to run away many times in the past, trying to get away from him and his abusive ways, she still could see him in her. It was just the looks, yes, but it made her angry that he was still a part of her as she was a part of him. And her last name. It was an attachment to him and she would never be able to change it; people would most certainly know who she was by her appearance. "Look, a gift from Illyrio," he shows her the dress. "Touch it. Go on, feel the fabric." 

She runs her hand over it, feeling the silkiness of it, and realizes that it was the softest thing she has ever touched. It flowed like water across her fingertips, the grey color of it was surely going to be subtle on her skin, but, by the look of it, there was a pin on the front that had a dragon head on it, her brother letting out a moan as she did so. "Isn't he a gracious host?" 

She looks at him with her rare-colored eyes, her eyebrows furrowing lightly, "We've been his guests for over a year and he's never asked us for anything."

"Illyrio's no fool," her brother replies. "He knows I won't forget my friends when I come into my throne." He bunches up the dress and hands it over to a maid, her large collar sticking up from her neck, displaying her low status. People say that this town was one of the Free Cities, but the men and women with collars on their necks argued so, all of them having to use the same collars as the people in Slavers Bay, but theirs was made from gold. "You still slouch," he notes, making her a bit rigid, watching as her brother's eyes skimmed over her clothed body. She wished that Viserys was murdered and Rhaegar was alive; she wanted to know what her oldest sibling would treat her like. Was he mad and delusional as Viserys, the one that took after their father and wanted nothing more than to take back his rightful throne? Or was he like their mom, kind and generous, healthy and great? She hoped she was like her mother. Viserys moves Daenerys' hair off her shoulders, one hand creeping towards the curve of her lower back ━ where her spine and derrièremet ━ and used his fingers to hook the loop of the knot and pull, "Let them see." His hands trail back to her shoulders, grabbing on to the small straps and pushes them off her skin, staring down as her breasts were slowly released. "You have a woman's body now," Daenerys moves her hands slightly as the top of the dress made it past her hips and onto the floor.

Viserys could see the light dusting of silver hairs on her vagina, the pinkness of the labia standing out from the pale skin over it, seeing the small little freckle she had on the right side of her cunt. He takes a deep breath and puts his thumb to his lips, then, without warning, reaches out and uses his thumb to run it over the skin above her nipple, making it wander down to let it and his forefinger cup his sibling's breast. Oh, had he wanted to fuck her senseless so many times, to throw her over the desk he had in his chambers and slam his cock into her aching hole, to make her scream his name and, after a few months, watch her belly grow with his unborn child, but he knew that if she wasn't a virgin, the deal would be off.

Daenerys endured the physical touches, telling herself that the Targaryens were known for incest, that it was part of their nature, but she wanted to run off, bash the heel of her hand into her brother's nose and watch the blood flow from it, stick his head in a firepit and watch his skin melt and his hair fall in pieces. 

_She wanted revenge._

"I need you to be perfect today," Viserys speaks against the silence of the room, looking up to let his eyes meet with Daenerys'. "Can you do that for me?" Daenerys doesn't say anything, her mouth opening and widening with no words or sounds falling from her lips, "You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?"

That was what Viserys always called it. Waking the dragon. He always believed that he was the true dragon, that he was going to be the one that could breathe fire and burn entire cities to the ground, that he could let out one magnificent growl and all would bend the knee to him. "No," Daenerys replied, believing him, but at the same time, she didn't want to, that she was the last true dragon and Viserys was just a figment of her imagination, a sign of madness. Viserys nods down at her, giving her a small smile before walking away, making his way to the doors. He holds up a finger and faces her, "When they write the history of my reign, sweet sister," bile rose in Daenerys' throat, but she managed to keep it down, "they will say it began today." He finally walks out, leaving Daenerys to her own devices, minus the maids in the room, the Targaryen princess turning to her bath, her short legs carrying her body up the small flight of steps to the edge, steam rising off of the water, looking somewhat dangerous to the servants, but inviting and comforting to Daenerys. 

Her foot sinks into the water, Daenerys' face blank and unreadable, her other foot coming down to join her left, carrying her deeper into the bath. "It's too hot, My Lady," one of the female servants says as she rushes to the edge, but, as soon as she sees that Daenerys was alright, that she wasn't screaming out in pain, she walks away slowly, eyes still on the princess' back, watching the pale skin sink deeper into it. 

  ♕♕♕  

Men and women walked around, some carrying umbrellas to shield their skin from the sun, all of them waiting for the Asgardian royalty to come towards the home and meet his new queen, all anticipating his reaction to the beautiful Daenerys Targaryen. There was a lot of orange, yellow and red clothing worn, but Viserys and Daenerys wore grey clothes, Daenerys' dress a few shades lighter than Viserys' dark outfit. Daenerys wore the dress Illyrio Mopatis gave her, her silver hair having two little braids that connected that the back of her head, the rest let loose. "Where is he?" Viserys asked, his impatient side coming through. 

"The Asgardians are not known for their punctuality," Illyrio answers, the two thick braids of his beard moving as he spoke, Viserys nodding at him. They look straight ahead, continuing their wait. A few minutes from the square, Loki rode beneath a bridge with some Dothraki bloodriders he had encountered on his journey, all of them siding with him, making the God their new Khal after he showed them what he was able to do. Their horses' hooves pounded the cobblestone pavement as they stopped in front of an expensive mansion, an equally expensive-looking man talking in Icelandic, Norwegian, Faroese, and the extinct Norn language of Orkney and Shetland ━ the language of the Asgardian Gods ━ while spreading his arms out. "May I present my honored guests?" Illyrio finally says in the Common Tongue, letting the two Targaryens understand what he was saying. "Viserys, of House Targaryen, the third of His name, the rightful king of the Andals and the First Men, and his sister, Daenerys of House Targaryen." 

Daenerys takes this as her clue to began marching up to her fiancé, her legs carrying her forward, but her brother's hand on her wrist stops her as Illyrio resumes his walk to the God, speaking in the foreign language. "Do you see that helm he wears?" Daenerys nods. "It is a sign of his status. No one but the Asgardian gods wears a helm that great. His brother, Thor, wears a silver helmet with wings on the side. Loki is known for his smart, cunning, mischievous ways," Viserys gets closer to Daenerys' ear. "And you will be his queen." 

"Come forward, my dear," Illyrio says to Daenerys, her sibling letting go of her forearm and puts his hand back on the hilt of his sword, watching her walk closer to her soon-to-be husband, her blue-violet eyes wide and innocent, his startling blue ones looking deep into hers. Loki could see the outline of her nipples on her dress, the khalasar he had straining to keep their mouths shut or something bad would be placed on them by the trickster.

Loki had to admit that Daenerys was the most beautiful creature he ever laid his eyes on, with her light hair and amusing-colored eyes to how she seemed pure, righteous, benign, inexperienced. He turns on his horse and rides away, his men doing the same, leaving the young girl defeated, ashamed to bring possible dishonor for being too naive-looking, too young and childish for the man. The prince's features were branded into her mind, how he held himself with respect and honor. . . and how he had given her a glare before running off. She didn't hear Viserys' bumbling in the back, asking where the deity was going. 

She replayed the scene in her head over and over, but all she could see were Loki's amazing looks. Startling blue eyes, high cheekbones, dark hair that flowed perfectly over his ears, black, straight eyebrows, and pale, almost translucent, skin. 

"Trust men, Your Grace, if he didn't like her, we'd know."


	7. 2. A DRAGON AND A GOD

_Sexual themes included. Slight Smut._

 

**DAENERYS WATCHED IN HORROR AS DOTHRAKI MEN**  and women all hung around, some having sex with whatever partner they could find, some men fighting, and others were speaking with some of Essos' traders, speaking about what they could sell and what they what they could buy, music, moans, and loud talking were filling her ears, making her feel unclean. The dark colors of the Dothraki mingled in with the bright hues of the Free People, one of the guests coming up and handing over a bowl filled with things that were either rocks or dirty flatbread. A khalasar member walks up and takes the silver bowl, moving it to the side for the next gift. 

Daenerys' hair waved in the wind, the air picking up off her shoulders as one man with a small chest full of snakes stepped up to them, the Targaryen's breath catching in her throat as Loki smiled down, rethinking of one of the times he so-lovingly stabbed his brother after transforming into a viper. Corn snakes, small boas, and a python slithered against one another, hissing at each other. The man picks them up in his hands, shows them their colors and slowly puts them back in, using a free hand to push one of the reptile's body off his arm. Viserys watched in amusement as Daenerys took a deep, shaky breath, her eyes following the chest as it was moved away from them, seeing Loki smile widely at his wife. 

Daenerys then saw the horse hearts being cooked, the blood being ladled back onto the pink skin, flies buzzing around the "food", and more flies buzzed around some type of vermin meat that was supposedly cooked, but Dany could still see the pink splotches on the skin. She gave one look at her husband and realized that he was a savage too for actually letting these people cook such revolting food instead of having fine wine, crackers, goat, sheep, and delicate desserts such as lemon cakes. A woman moaned as a man's hard cock drove into her cunt, another danced to the music with her breast hanging out of her dress, not caring one bit about who saw. Viserys takes one sip of wine and steals a glance at his poor sister. "When do I meet with the God?" He asks Illyrio. "We need to begin planning the invasion."

"If Prince Loki has promised you a crown, you shall have it."

"When?"

"When their omens favor war," the Magister replies, the Targaryen in front of his not favoring the answer he got, shaking his head as he fires back. "I piss on Asgardian omens," Loki glares at Viserys' back, hearing what he said, but decides to say nothing of it; it will all be taken care of one way or another. "I waited seventeen years to get my throne back." Viserys raises the horn to his lips and sips at the burgundy tart liquid that resided inside the vessel, the woman that was dancing now wrapped up in some man's arm as he hurriedly took out his penis, wanting so badly to stuff it inside her. Another man puts a small plate of food in front of the married couple, somewhat ashamed that it was the only thing he was able to afford at the moment. 

Dany stares as a woman is repeatedly thrusted into, her head moving along with each hard impact of the man's skin on hers, bent on all fours, her lewd moans sounding out of her lips. Loki wants so badly to rip his wife's dress off and fuck her in the middle of the party but remembers that he was a prince and had to do it away from the naked eye. A Dothraki throws another off a woman, pushing her down and driving his cock into her dripping wet hole. Another man punches the one fucking the girl, grabbing onto his hair as he drove his fist into his nose once more. They continue to fight, Dothraki men and women cheering them on from their spots, a sword was taken out, one of them repeatedly swinging it to kill the other. Now the two are armed and fighting, one being somewhat cocky, but the other just slices his stomach open, the crimson color of his guts and blood spilling onto the ground below, Dany turning her head away from the sight as the braid from the defeated was chopped off. 

Women circled him, all wanting to have sex with him one way or another. "A Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is considered a dull affair." Viserys smiles, a knight in Westerosi garb walks up the spouses, holding books. Loki addresses him in the Norse language, the old man bowing down, "Hello, my friend," the man straightens up. "A small gift for the new  _Khaleesi._  Songs and histories from the Seven Kingdoms."

Khaleesi.

The official name for the queen of a Dothraki tribe, given to her by an old man she hasn't seen or talked to before, but his kindness seemed real, his old, weathered hands giving her the three leather-bound books with care. "Thank you, Ser," she says for the first time since the wedding started, Loki looking at her with surprise; he thought that she was mute, but not that he had heard her real voice and the accent that adorned it, it was like music to his ears. He wondered what it would sound like screaming his name. "Are you from my country?" 

"Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island," the man answers. "I served your father for many years. Gods be good, I hope to always serve the rightful king."

Then, Dany is presented with a large chest, the slave men opening it, and staring back up at her were three beautiful dragon eggs, green, white and a mix of red and black. She picks up the green egg, feeling its heavy weight in her arms, the bottom dotted with what looked to be mold. "Dragons' eggs, Daenerys. From the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. The ages have turned them to stone, but they will always be beautiful." Viserys becomes jealous, wanting those eggs for himself because, as he always reminded his sweet sister,  _he_ was the true dragon, not her. Dany runs her hands over the ridges on the oval egg, feeling the scale-like texture to it, nodding her silver head at the Magister. "Thank you, Magister," she says, placing the egg back inside. 

Loki rises, tall and dark, Dany looking sick with fear as she realized that she had to follow him; the wedding was over. The Dothraki part and close as she walks through them, all of them surrounding her as she made her way to where her husband was, staring at her in wonder; what would a pink girl's twat taste like? 

In front of her stood a white broodmare, the magnificent horse fitted with a saddle and her coat was shining brightly, the Khaleesi running her hand over its coat. "She's beautiful," she says, but soon remembers that Loki didn't speak the Common Tongue. "Ser Jorah, I don't know how to say  _thank you_  in the Norse language." Jorah takes the time to translate her words, smiling up at the prince with a knowing smile, knowing something that Dany didn't. Loki rounds the horse and puts his hands in Dany's underarms, picking his wife's petite body up and sitting her on her new horse. Daenerys rights herself, spreading her legs and putting them on either side of the mare, holding on to the reigns. Loki pulls himself up on his, Viserys putting his hand on his sibling's leg. "Make him happy." 

With a scared look, Dany rides off beside Loki, a few inches behind the god she now had to call her husband.

  ♕♕♕     

Dany stared off into the sunset, wishing that she was on the back of a great dragon, flying away from all of her fears and issues or, better than that, riding high and mighty into the battle between her, her internal and external demons, setting fire to those lingering thoughts that had robbed her of her sleep, a helm with a dragon opening its mouth mid-roar placed on her head as a chest plate decorated her dragon's torso. 

Loki watched his consort while holding on to his horse, hearing the waves crash against the rocks below, the grey dress Dany wore waving in the wind, her short legs visible through the thin fabric, letting him see the outline of her quim, looking warm and inviting for his now-throbbing member. He walks up to her, throwing something to the ground, reaching out a hand, picking up a lock of her silver hair, passing the strand through his fingertips. He would give anything to see that hair splayed across his lap as her mouth was wrapped around his cock, sucking and licking with inexperienced movements, waiting for him to chase his orgasm and leave white streaks of hot come on her chest. He unties the knot of her dress, wiping away a tear from his wife's face as she let out soft sobs. "No," he says and this elicits another sob from her, her hand holding up the front of her dress so that it wouldn't fall to the ground and let her breasts be seen, to be touched by him and him only. "Do you know the Common Tongue?" Dany asks, Loki pulling the dragon head pin that held her dress together from its spot, dropping it to the ground with a soft clang of metal on dry sand. "No," he answers, circling back around her, watching her with careful, glaring eyes.

"Is  _no_  the only word that you know?"

"No."

The sound of something dropping, something that sounded large and heavy, resonated in Dany's ears, making her heart jump at what it could've possibly been. When Loki's hands begin to pull off the fabric, Dany lets out a soft sob, holding her hands over her bare chest as the dress falls off her body, but her husband was stronger; he pulled her unwilling arms away from her skin, allowing him to see the rose-colored buds on her plump breasts, his hand coming around and wrapping themselves around her throat, thumb grazing her jaw as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, smelling the lavender oil her maids had placed there. His hand moves down her body slowly, brushing over her nipple, and brings it back up to her shoulder, placing a lot of weight on it to push her to the ground, kneeling before her spouse.

Her  _king._


	8. 3. LOVE IN THE EYES

**RAPE. SMUT. UNDERAGE.**

**DAENERYS HAD RODE WITH HER KHALASAR HER NEW HUSBAND HAD, MANY RIDING HORSES WHILE SOME WALKED.**  She was currently off to the side, her horse moving its hooves in an impatient manner, nothing but dry grass and a train of humans and animals in her line of sight, Jorah sidling up to her, "You need to drink, child." Daenerys turns her head away from him, huffing. It would be better if she died from starvation. At least then she would be away from Loki, away from her brother, and away from all of the men that have tried to kill her. "And eat," he pulled out a piece of dried meat from his pouch, handing it to her, turning his horse around so it could face the same way as Daenerys'. 

"Isn't there anything else?" the young woman asks, and despite her adult-like looks and her already developed breasts, she was only thirteen years old.

"The Dothraki have two things in abundance," Jorah tries to calm his mare. "Grass and horses." Dany takes a small bite out of the cured meat, tasting the foul flavor to it and the hardness gets softened up by her molars and saliva, but she eats it anyway. She had to admit that she was starving. "People can't live on grass. In the shadow-lands beyond Asshai, they say fields of ghost grass with stalks as pale as milk that glows in the night. It murders all other grass. The Dothraki believe that one day it will cover everything. That's the way the world will end." Dany watches her husband ride past, not giving either of them a first glance, Jorah noticing what she was staring at. He had to admit that Loki rode with grace; back straight, arms limp yet hands clutching on to the reigns, barely moving from the horse's movements. "It'll get easier."

  ♕♕♕    

Arriving at the camp woke Dany up, women skinning animals and cleaning clothes, children running around, throwing bowls of water at each other, a baby cried from his mother's tent, wanting milk, and men talked over small horns of wine. A Dothraki man held onto her horse's reigns, waiting for someone to help her off, Jorah riding up beside her, worried. Dany was hunched over her mare, wanting more sleep, and Jorah picks her up from her saddle and places her feet on the ground, two women running up to them, "Khaleesi!"

 ♕♕♕

Loki listened to the many stories the Dothraki savages told over a campfire and wine, but he soon grew tired and made his way to his tent, throwing his cup to the ground, the blood red drink spilling onto the ground as he had seen many other men do. Dany had perked up from her position on their bed, hearing her husband's footsteps draw nearer, and fear ran through her veins, wanting nothing more than just to disappear.  _Or,_  she thought,  _just die off completely in a pile of ashes. A dragon's death._

But she did not die then and there and she didn't disappear. Instead, Loki stripped both of them from their clothing and started to fuck her, driving his cock deep into her cunt wildly, none of them making a noise instead of the sound of their skin coming together, Dany's breasts beginning to hurt from the rapid movement they made. 

Loki slowed down, pressing her into the sheets, forcing her onto her elbows, and begins to drive in harder, slower than his pace before. Dany let out a strangled moan, pain and pleasure fighting inside her body, a war between the two to see who would come out on top. Pain won though, and the pleasure subsided after a while, leaving her to watch her dragon eggs in despair and agony. 

This wasn't something that she had dreamed of as a mere child. She believed that all men treated women like queens, treated them with the same respect he would give to a man, and all she got was a rough man that didn't know how to love anything. And here she was, a mere child again, a cock between her legs and tears in her eyes, wishing it could all just stop, but from the stories her brother told, she knew Loki was a god and gods had higher vigor and persistence than regular men. She would have to go through that almost all night long. 

Soon enough she felt a warm liquid gushing between her legs, a white substance coating Loki's manhood and running down her legs, the Targaryen letting out a loud cry of satisfaction in defiance of her protests of keeping it in. Her own body had betrayed her in one single move. Within that betrayal, it silently told the trickster that she was enjoying it and continued to fuck her body, running a cool hand down the spine of her back, letting out small words of praise. Dany didn't care for them. She just wanted to leave, die, retire, disappear. She buried her head into the pelts and let out sobs escape her, Loki ceasing his movements as he shot his seed onto her back, the warm substance feeling heavy on Dany's skin as each droplet of his load hit her ass. He laid next to her and fell asleep as fast as a light, neglecting his wife's pain and sorrowful cries of mercy.

♕♕♕ 

Dorreah, Irri, and another woman Dany hadn't gotten the name of all cleaned up the torn skin on her hands, a reminder of what happened the night before. Her hands had dug into pelt so tightly that it had cut through and her nails punctured her palms in multiple spots, but they looked more like knife cuts. "Have you ever seen a dragon?" She asked the woman to her right while the third sat by her feet. 

"Dragon gone, Khaleesi." Gods, she hated that name.  _Khaleesi._  The name given to the official queen of a Dothraki tribe, a reminder that she was married to a god, a  _khal_. She wished to slit Loki's throat at night.

"Everywhere?" She replied instantly, not wanting them to know her disgust at the name. "Even in the east?" 

"No dragon," the woman sitting on the ground poured warm milk on Dany's foot ━ which was placed in a bowl ━ and the Targaryen let her do her job. "Brave men killed them."  _Brave men?_ Dany thought to herself. The brave men did not kill dragons. The brave men rode them. "It is known."

"It is known," the woman at her feet echoed, nodding her curly head. "A trader from Qarth told me that dragons come from the moon." 

"The moon?"

"He told me the moon was an egg, Khaleesi, that once there were two moons in the sky," the one to her left explained. Doreah was her name. "But one wandered too close to the sun and it cracked from the heat. Out of it poured a thousand thousand dragons and they drank the sun's fire." Irri laughs at her story, shaking her head as she continued patching up Dany's hand. "Moon is no egg," she tells her, looking at her with her deep brown eyes, Dany staring longingly at her eggs. "Moon is goddess. . . wife of Sun. It is known."

"It is known," the other echoed once again, Dany breaking her small trance and turns her head to the two girls to her right. "Leave me with her." Doreah becomes scared, wondering what the Targaryen will do, knowing the stories about the silver-haired beauty's lineage. Madness. Greatness. The handmaiden had a man drunkenly told her about them: 'Madness and Greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, the Gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.' Doreah cleans her hands with a rag as Dany begins speaking to her, "Why did the trader from Qarth tell you these stories?" 

"Men like to talk when they're happy," Doreah wraps a cloth around a sponge, tying it to Dany's hand as she answered, shaking her head. "Before your brother bought me for you, it was my job to make men happy." A whore, Dany thought. She was a whore, this poor unfortunate woman had to have sex with many just for what? Money that would go straight to their Master? And she looked to be a few years older than her, perhaps eighteen or nineteen. "How old were you?" Her curiosity gets the best of her and rips the question from her lips, regretting it as soon as it escaped, but the young woman before her didn't mind, answering immediately. "I was nine when my mother sold me to the pleasure house."

"Nine?"

"I did not touch a man for three years, Khaleesi," Doreah smiles up at her. "First you must learn." Dany feels the urge to ask a ludicrous question, trying to hold it back, but she knew that if she didn't learn, her husband was sure to kill her. "Can you teach me how to make the Khal happy?"

"Yes."

"Will it take three years?"

"No."

  ♕♕♕

"No, Khaleesi," Doreah grabs Dany's chin softly, turning her head towards her to let her brown eyes meet the inexperienced girl's blue-violet ones. The young girl beneath her looked afraid, shamed, but over all of that, she looked hopeful; if she learned how to please her husband, perhaps the cruel man would stop being harsh towards her. Doreah links her fingers with Daenerys', straightening from her leaning position over the Targaryen. "You must look in his eyes always. Love comes in at the eyes. It is said that Irogenia of Lys could finish a man with nothing but her eyes." Her Khaleesi's eyebrows furrow, wondering about what she said, "Finish a man?" The suggestive look Doreah gives to Dany lets her know what she was talking about, looking down bashfully, blushing hard.

Dany could feel Doreah's womanhood press up against hers, and it felt both good and weird, a soft mound on top of her hard pubic bone. "Kings traveled across the world for a night with Irogenia. Magisters sold their palaces. Khals burned her enemies just to have her for a few hours. They say a thousand men proposed to her and she refused them all," Doreah continues her story, taking Dany's other hand in hers, letting their joined fingers rest on the mattress next to Dany's head, leaning down until their breaths mixed, the woman below her smiling. "Well, she sounds like an interesting woman," she stutters a bit before letting her next sentence flow out. "I don't think Loki will like it with me on top."

"You will make him like it, Khaleesi," Doreah replies. "Men want what they've never had. And the Dothraki take slaves like a hound takes a bitch. Are you a slave, Khaleesi?" Dany shakes her head rapidly, looking away bashfully, but brings her eyes back to the woman on top, watching her as she straightens and places her hands on her hips, the former whore beginning to circle her hips around slowly. "Then don't make love like a slave," Dany, out of nowhere and with a rush of courage, flips them over so she was the one on top, taking Doreah's advice, making the woman huff as she hits the soft mattress. "Very good, Khaleesi. Out there he is the mighty Khal, but in this tent, he belongs to you." Dany was beginning to lean down, but as soon as Doreah's hand came up to sweep her silver hair out of her face, she sits up, shaking her head. 

"I don't think this is the Asgardian way."

"If he wanted the Asgardian way, why would he marry you?" Doreah follows her, brushing Dany's soft adolescent cheek with her fingertips.

   ♕♕♕  

It was late at night, Dany laying in bed, watching her dragon eggs begin surrounded by small lit candles, keeping them warm, long flames emitting from the wicks, melting the wax and burning the tapers into snubs, but the cotton thread still held on, still put up a fight against the fire. Loki's naked entrance disturbs her, making her sit up on her elbow and stare at his pale body, nude and orange in the flames. He advances slowly, staring at her with his raging pale eyes, seeing him hover over her for a bit before sitting behind her ass, pulling her into him, and begins to try to pull off her nightgown.

Dany puts up a fight, though, placing a warm hand on his cold chest, "No." Her husband didn't take  _no_  for an answer, though, and continues to try to undress her, turning her around harshly, but Dany didn't want to do it what she called, _the Asgardian way_. She turns around again, "No!" When Loki begins to rip her hands off his chest, trying to turn her around, Dany quickly speaks a Dothraki phrase she hoped he would understand,  _"Ajjalan anha zalat vitiherat yer hatif."_ **(Tonight I would look upon your face.)**  Loki lets her place her hand on his cheek, letting her feel his prominent cheekbones and let the other rest on his forearm, turning him so he laid on his back on the spot she once laid on, straddling his lap slowly. 

When he falls back on the bed, her right leg falls on the other side of his pelvis and begins to move her hips languidly, letting her clit rub against his hard manhood. Loki could feel the rough fabric of her underwear though, but says nothing of it, letting her take her pleasure from him. He had to admit that he was rough with her the last night and had probably scared her into doing what she was doing, placing his hand on his wife's hip and feeling her fingers clasp onto it, the long sleeves of her dress falling over them. He rubs her side, hearing her take deep, soft moans come out of her parted lips, sitting up suddenly, her moans being taken over by a large gasp.

Her actions don't stop though, and she continues to roll her hips while a hand moves along Loki's arm, leaning in closer as she feels her underpants being moved to the side and his cock penetrate her softly, her husband's own hips thrusting into hers. They move in a rhythm so uniquely and contemporaneously, it was as if they choreographed their own sex, pressing their foreheads together as they continued.

Fingers gripped onto each other's bodies as they reach their highs, breathing loud moans into the other's mouths, Dany's arms tightening around Loki's shoulders. Their juices mix, letting each other feel the desire they gave one another, Dany collapsing on top of her husband's chest. Loki takes this time to lower both of them down, rubbing the second heir's cheek, whispering praises and rubbing her back as his flaccid manhood fell out of her with a pornographic sound. "Goodnight, Moon of my Life."


	9. 4. NOT A QUEEN, A KHALEESI

**DANY, JORAH, AND THE KHALASAR WERE RIDING THROUGH A FIELD,** Loki leading them all, taking them somewhere only the Dothraki seemed to know, tall plants rustling at their sides. Slave men and women walked beside them, carrying small bundles, Dany eyeing them carefully. "Do the Dothraki buy their slaves?" She asked, trying to hide her disgust at saving the word  _slaves_ , Jorah shaking his head at her. "The Dothraki don't believe in money," he answers. "Most of their slaves were given to them as gifts." This strikes a furious, inquisitive state in the silver-haired woman, making another question rip out from her mouth. "From whom?" 

"If you rule a city and you see the horde approaching, you have two choices: pay tribute or fight," Jorah explains to her. "An easy choice for most. Of course, sometimes it's not enough. Sometimes a Khal feels insulted by the number of slaves he's given. He might think the men too weak or the women too ugly. Sometimes a Khal decides his riders haven't had a good fight in months and need the practice." 

Dany sees one of the Dothraki men whip a slave for not walking fast enough, striking the poor man over and over, aiming for his shaggy head, hearing him cry out in pain, making her more furious than before, demanding, "Tell them all to stop." Jorah gives her a curious look, "You want the entire horde to stop? For how long?" 

"Until I command them otherwise."

"You're learning to talk like a Queen."

"Not a Queen," Dany shakes her head. "A Khaleesi." 

She dismounts her horse, a slave girl holding onto the reigns as the Targaryen walks into the line of plants to their right, hearing Jorah command the rest of them to stop riding forth. She comes into a clearing, taking a deep, calming breath, trying to calm her speeding heart rate, but it all gets broken by a rustle in the leaves, making her turn around and search for the sound. The line of bamboo-like plants that once stood behind her began rustling again, heavier and faster this time, the sound of hooves coming nearer. Her brother comes through, swinging his sword as he angrily lashes out at the tiny woman, "You dare! You give commands to me?  _To me?_  You do not command the dragon. I am Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. I don't take orders from savages or their sluts. Do you hear me?" He takes his sister's neck in his hand and leans closer to her, looking her deep into her eyes, putting up his sword and goes to press it to her neck. When he is about to touch her skin with the cool metal, a whip comes around his own throat and he is pulled onto the ground, multiple Dothraki men on horses looming over him, the man holding the whip beginning to speak to her. "Rakharo ask if you want him dead, Khaleesi," one of the women asks. Irri. 

"No!" It rips out of Dany's throat quickly, her familiar instinct coming through. Though Viserys was cruel, weak, and a coward, he was her brother still, and he was one of the last Targaryens in the world, and they needed to bring forth more children like them into the world. Visery was struggling on the ground, trying to take deep breaths, but it is cut off by the rope caught around his collar. "Rakharo say you should take ear, to teach respect," Irri tells the writhing man on the dirt, Dany raising a hand slightly as she steps forward. 

"Please please, don't hurt him. Tell him I don't want my brother harmed."

Irri and Rakharo give each other an odd look, shrugging their shoulders as the blood rider loosens the whip, Viserys taking a deep gulp of air as oxygen rushes into his lungs, blubbering as he sits up on his hindquarters. "Kill these Dothraki dogs!" He commands Jorah, but the older man makes to move, Viserys standing up quickly once he sees nothing happening. "I am your King!" Nothing. Jorah looks at his Khaleesi and asks, "Shall we return to the Khalasar, Khaleesi?" Daenerys gives him a short nod and walks away with him, going back to her horse, Irri steadying her with her hands. Viserys picks up his sword and goes to his own mare, which was attached to Rakharo's saddle, the Dothraki man shaking his head, "You. Walk." They all ride off. 

♕♕♕    

Irri was braiding Dany's fine hair, pulling different strands in and out of each other, teaching the Khaleesi Dothraki.  _"Athjahakar,"_  the two keep saying, Irri understanding that the word meant  _pride_ , nodding her head as soon as the girl before her got it correct. "Yes, Khaleesi," stopping her actions, putting the unfinished braid into one hand, and cups Dany's right breast with her other. Dany chuckles as she does so. "What are you doing?" 

"When was last time you bleed, Khaleesi?" This pulls Dany up short, looking away for a minute to think about it. "You change, Khaleesi. It is a blessing from the Great Stallion." The Great Stallion. Dany's heard about that. The Great Stallion was the god the Dothraki praised, and her lack of period was seen as a blessing by him to the Grand Khal and Khaleesi since it signals a pregnancy and the possible continuation of Loki's line (despite the in-fighting common to Dothraki khalasars after the deaths of Khals or Grand Khals, he certainly expected his child to succeed him if male). 

  ♕♕♕  

A small fire burned safely inside Loki's and Dany's tent, both cuddling up to each other after having more sex, Loki brushing his hand across Daenerys' supple skin, the Khaleesi looking up at him.  _"Me rakh,"_  she says to him, watching as her husband's green gaze falls down on her.  **(It's a boy.)**

_"Kifinosi yer nesi?"_   **(How do you know?)**

_"Anha sekke nesa."_   **(I very knows.)**  She leans up to kiss him, pressing her full lips to his, feeling his hand continuing its soft touches. They both smile at each other. They were having a child together.


	10. 5. VAES DOTHRAK

**EVERYONE  ━ THE DOTHRAKI, TARGARYENS, LOKI, AND JORAH ━ RIDE TOWARDS THE TEMPLE OF THE DOSH KHALEEN,**  ready to perform the pregnancy ritual, the one Daenerys has heard of and never wants to try. Loki and a small group of men ride ahead, some yelling out and pumping their fists into the air, "Vaes Dothrak. The city of the horse lords." Viserys scoff while Dany smiles, making her gaze turn towards her brother. "A pile of mud," he says, shaking his head. "Mud and shit and twigs ━ best these savages can do."

"These are my people now," Dany says, making her brother's head turn towards her; she had never spoken up again him. "You shouldn't call them savages." Despite her retort, Viserys still had something to say, glaring down at the youngest sibling. "I'll call them what I like because they're my people. This is my army. Khal Loki is marching the wrong way with my army," he replies, riding off, going to catch up with the group that had left, and the other Dothraki members follow. Dany asks Jorah, "If my brother was given an army of Dothraki, could you conquer the Seven Kingdoms?" 

"The Dothraki have never crossed the Narrow Sea," Jorah responds, shaking his head. "They fear any water their horses can't drink."

"But if they did?"

"King Robert is fool enough to meet them in open battle," Jorah says, squinting his eyes against the bright sun beating down on them, "but the men advising him are different." Dany turned her head towards him, "And you know these men?" She wanted an answer, one that was truthful and honest, one that didn't leave anything behind, and Jorah could tell from the tone of her voice. So he gave her a quick answer that had a few bits left out of it, "I fought beside them once, long ago. Now Ned Stark wants my head. He drove me from my land." 

"You  _sold_  slaves."

"Aye," Jorah nods, regretting his decisions from long ago. Dany wasn't having any of it, Jorah knowing that she hated the fact that men, women, and children are still being taken in as slaves, whipped, collared, and forced to do work for no money at all and at horrendous conditions. "Why?" She asks, angry at the reality that the man beside her did something she hated with a passion. "I had no money and an expensive wife," he looks at her, hoping that she would understand. 

"Where is she now?"

"In another place with another man."

  ♕♕♕  

Viserys had shared a bath ━ and a long conversation ━ with Doreah, and he was angry at his sister for sending her handmaiden to tell him to go somewhere. He dragged the Dothraki maid by her hair to his sister's tent, hearing her cries and whimpers of pain, doing nothing but continuing his pace, the other Dothraki men just doing their jobs, not interfering with it. Once he reaches the small place, he throws the woman on the ground by his sister's feet, "You send this whore to give me command?" He yells at her. "I should have sent you back her head!" Dany looks down at the crying woman. "Forgive me, Khaleesi, I did as you asked." 

"Hush, now, it's alright," she silences her, turning to her other maid. "Irri, take her and leave us." The young woman nods, "Yes, Khaleesi," and walks away with Doreah, holding her in a soothing yet protective manner. "Why did you hit her?" Dany asks her brother, drawing her eyebrows near. 

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Viserys takes a step towards his sister. "You do not command me." Dany shakes her head, knowing that he took the self-proclaimed  _king_  title a little too far, and understanding that he was becoming their father, the Mad King. "I wasn't commanding you," she gestures towards the trays of food laid out, "I just wanted to invite you to supper." Viserys sees something on the table to his left, picking up a garment from it, "What's this?" 

"It's a gift," Daenerys answers, hoping her brother would love it. "I had it made for you." Despite her brother being abusive and demanding, she made sure he got gifts and supplies, made sure he was happy and yet he never was. He wanted more and more, not thinking about others but himself, wanting his throne back no matter the cost. "Dothraki rags?" Viserys replies, shaking the garment. "You're going to dress me now!" 

"Please," Dany says in a meek voice, her brother throwing the thing at her. "It stinks of manure!" He yells, throwing a necklace at Dany. "All of it!" Dany catches it, turning towards her sibling. "Stop! Stop it!" 

"You would turn me into one of them, wouldn't you?" Dany wished it was Rhaegar there, not Viserys, wishing that her oldest brother was there to be grateful for the gifts she gave, hearing that he was noble, gentle, and charming, yet was valiant on the battlefield, striking down every man he hated. He fought bravely, and yet he was dead. "Next you'll want to braid my hair!" 

"You've no right to a braid, you've won no victoried yet!" Dany felt slight regret as soon as the words escaped her lips, seeing her brother's eyes flash angrily at her, ready to pounce. "You do not talk back to me!" He strikes her cheek, making her fall to the ground with a thud, mounting her to keep hitting her, "You are a horselord's slut. And now you've woken the dragon. . ." With all her strength, Dany uses the necklace by her head to strike Viserys' cheek, pushing him off of her as she stands up, panting as she saw the cut on his cheek. "I am a Khaleesi of the Dothraki! I am the wife of the great Khal and I carry his son inside me. The next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have hands." 

  ♕♕♕  

Inside her tent, she spoke to Jorah, feeling deep regret at striking her brother down. "I hit him," she told him, facing the taller, older man. "I hit the dragon." She still believed her older brother was the true dragon, believing all of the little lies he told her over the years, still believing the stories. "Your brother Rhaegar was the last dragon," Jorah shakes his head at her, not accepting her at the dragon part. "Viserys is less than the shadow of a snake." He knew that a dragon must be mighty and strong, but still have sympathy and respect towards others, not striking them down whenever they feel like it. Rhaegar was the embodiment of a dragon while Viserys was nothing, a mere little boy that still bought various falsifications. "He is still the true king," Dany replied.

"The truth now:  _do you want to see your brother sitting on the Iron Throne?"_

"No," Daenerys answers truthfully, finally letting out the word that has haunted her past. "But the common people are waiting for him. Illyrio said they're sewing dragon banners and praying for his return."

"The common people pray for rain, health and a summer that never ends. They don't care what games the high Lords play."

"What do you pray for, Ser Jorah?"

_"Home."_

"I pray for home too. My brother will never take back the Seven Kingdoms. He couldn't lead an army even if my husband gave him one. He'll never take us home."


	11. 6. THE BEGGAR KING GETS HIS GOLDEN CROWN

**DAENERYS TAKES BITES OUT OF THE HORSE HEART IN HER HAND,**  hearing the women of the Vaes Dothrak do a ritual of the Stallion Who Mounts the World, the crone in front of her leading the chant, feeling the warm blood from the organ slip down her hands and around her teeth and mouth, staring at all of the people with a fury. She  _was_  going to make it through. She  _was_  going to give birth to a powerful, healthy son, and he shall go to the ends of the world to gather many people to kill his enemies. She saw her husband staring at her with pride, giving her a small nod to continue, to recommence eating the heart despite its horrible taste. "She has to eat the whole heart?" Viserys asks Jorah, threading his eyebrows together in confusion, fingers clasping his right hand. He looks back at his sister, "Hope that wasn't  _my_ horse."

"She's doing well," Jorah says, nodding towards the Khaleesi, making Viserys scoff and shake his head. "She'll never keep it down," the older sibling replies, watching his younger sister continue eating the organ without a problem, the priestess in front of her still doing her chant and moving her body from side to side as she did so.  _"Rahk! Rahk! Rahk haj!"_  The people keep intoning along to her words.  **(A boy! A boy! A strong boy!)**  The voices become louder, seeing that their Khaleesi was on the last few pieces of the heart, making them even more excited, believing that the tiny woman in front of them was to give birth to the man that had many legends written into his name. Loki leans forward, pressing his elbows to his knees, and stares at his wife intently as she stares his back, her hands tearing the meat away from her teeth, hard. 

"Tell me what she's saying," Viserys says, looking at the priestess. 

_"The prince is riding,"_  Jorah translates effortlessly.  _"I've heard the thunder of his hooves. Swift as the wind he rides. His enemies will cower before him. . . and their wives will weep tears of blood."_ Viserys had to admit that he was jealous that his sister was going to give birth to such a powerful man in the Dothraki tribe, but he tried to brush it off as quickly as it had come; the dark hair of his sister's husband reminded him that, from Targaryen word, a baby born from a wedlock between a Targaryen and someone not of the Targaryen blood is not a true dragon, it was just an insignificant child. "She's going to have a boy." Viserys shook his head at his advisor, "He won't be a real Targaryen. He won't be a true dragon." 

As the chanting is at its loudest, Dany had finished with the heart, everyone looking in anticipation, and she lurches forward, left hand pressed against the wood of the makeshift stage.

The chanting stops.

Loki is almost standing, hoping that his wife was alright, to hear any word from  _her_ , not anyone else, on her condition. She wasn't used to eating raw meats, so her body was going to reject any form of the foreign invaders. Dany lets out two singular sobs, not ones of sadness or grief, but of pain, feeling her stomach tighten and lurch at the uncooked meat. Her hands bloody, she slowly sits up on her haunches, keeping everything in as she gulps the final bite, the priestess beginning to speak once more.  _"The stallion who mounts the world,"_  Jorah translates again. "The stallion is the khal of khals. He shall unite the people into a single khalasar. All the people of the world will be his herd."

When Dany stands up, the priestess' concentration is broken, seeing the woman in front of her do something that's never been done before. Dany looks around the room, eyes scanning all of the people around her, opening her mouth to speak. _"Khalakka dothrae mr'anha,"_ she tells them.  _"Ma me nem ahakee ma Rhaego!"_  The khalasar begins to chant the name, speaking it as if it were a god that has come down to them.  **(A prince rides inside me. And he shall be called Rhaego!)**  Loki smiles as he rises to his feet, walking closer to Dany, opening his arms as he cradled her into him. "They love her," Viserys says, realizing that he's never been treated with such respect, and Jorah's words make it plainer; Dany was the true queen. But he is too proud to let this happen, already beginning to plot his next move against his sister, already mapping out the speech he would say before he would kill her. Viserys is kind of a tragic man; he suffers for years in poverty, trying to take back what is his birthright, despite his sister being, in general, a better person and better-loved by everyone. He also suffers, through no fault of his own, from Targaryen madness while his sister didn't. Instead, she was great. 

"She truly is a Queen today," Jorah looks to his right and sees that Viserys slipped out of the tent.

  ♕♕♕

A pig roasts over a fire in the center of the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen, women dancing around, men playing music and Viserys stumbles in, drunk out of his mind. "Daenerys!" He yells, looking around. "Where's my sister?" Dany and Jorah look up, seeing her brother on the other side of the hut, Loki seeing him as well. Jorah stands up and walks towards the man, Dany speaking up, "Stop him." 

"Where is she?" Viserys asks around. "I'm here for the feast. The whore's feast." Loki didn't like that his spouse was called a whore, but he keeps quiet, wanting his presence to be more of a surprise, not a common sight. "Come," Jorah says, grabbing him to lead him to a seat, but the man struggles against him. "Get your hands off me!" He yells. "No one touches the dragon." A man sitting next to Loki whispers something to him, making his Khal laugh with soft peals of chuckles. Viserys hears him and turns around, "Khal Loki! I'm here for the feast." 

_"Nevakhi vekha ha maan,"_  Loki nods down at a sitting-spot he had just for him at the other side of the hut, Jorah translating it for the Targaryen. "Khal Loki says there is a place for you," he points to the chair. "Back there." Jorah knew that the chair was meant for cripples and beggars, understanding that it was Loki's subtle way of saying that Viserys was the Beggar King, wanting things yet not doing anything about it; if he wanted his throne back, he should take lands by himself. It's what every Khal and his khalasar did, so why couldn't he do the same? "That is no place for a king," Viserys notes, shaking his head. 

"You are no king," Loki replies in a soft voice, a voice that sounded as if he spoke the Common Tongue for a long time ― long before he met Daenerys ― and it was much like Dany's; soft, malleable, and quiet. Viserys draws his sword, Jorah going up to stop him from harming anyone, yet the tip of it was pointed at his face, "Keep away from me!" The drums have stopped and everyone was now paying attention to the ruckus. "Viserys," Dany speaks up, "please." 

"There she is!" Viserys was still pointing his sword at Jorah, giving his little sister a mad look, making her cower a bit, but not enough to where he can see. He points the sword at her, walking towards her as Jorah says, "Put the sword down. They'll kill us all." 

"They can't kill us. They can't shed blood in their sacred city," Viserys steers the sword at everyone in the room, hoping they could understand him, then aims it at the pregnant stomach of his relative. "But I can. I want what I came for. I want the crown he promised me. He bought you. But he never paid for you." The Khal is fiercely looking at the commotion, a translator translating everything for him. "Tell him I want what was bargained for or I'm taking you back. He can keep the baby. I'll cut it out and leave it for him." After the translator is finished, Loki replies in Dothraki, nodding up at him. "What's he saying?" 

"He says yes," Dany answers for him, Viserys giving her an incredulous look. "You shall have a golden crown, that men shall tremble to behold." Viserys smiles down at her, and it was that smile that will break Daenerys over and over for the next few years in her sleep, knowing that her brother only wanted his crown, and he was going to get killed without knowing it. She understood that he was becoming demented, that he is going to turn out like their father, but he was her brother still, and she loved him like one. He steps away, dropping his sword, "That's all I ever wanted. What was promised." Loki stands up and walks over to his wife, placing a hand on her stomach to make sure she was alright, both exchanging looks, Dany giving him permission with the look in her eyes. He says something in Dothraki, two men coming up to Viserys and grabbing his arms, pinning them under their much stronger ones, the beggar king struggling against their hold.

His right arm is broken and he begins screaming at the top of his lungs, "No! You cannot touch me! I am the dragon! I am the dragon!" The men force him to his knees, Loki muttering something to the women by the fire, causing them to pour over the contents of the kettle, their Khal placing a golden piece of Dothraki jewelry into the pot. "Look away, Khaleesi," Jorah steps up to the Targaryen queen, but she just shakes her head. "No," she mutters to him, proceeding to watch her brother. "No. Dany! Dany, tell them, make them! You can't!" Viserys yells to her, begging her to stop them, but Dany makes no move towards him. It was something he deserved. The gold jewelry was now melted, Loki picking it up with pieces of cloth to prevent his hands from burning, and walks over to the screaming fool. "Dany please!"

"A crown for a king," Loki pours the metal over Viserys' head, hearing him gargle and scream, the gold solidifying on his skull, the men dropping him with a dull thud. He is instantly dead. "Khaleesi. . ."

_"He was no dragon,"_ Dany speaks up, causing everyone's heads to turn to her, Loki smiling down at her with pride.  _"Fire cannot kill a dragon."_


	12. 7. A WITCH'S WORDS POISON THE EARS

**_"SHEKH MA SHIERAKI ANNI SIZA,"_  DAENERYS SAYS AS SHE DROPS DOWN ON HER KNEES IN FRONT OF HER HUSBAND, LOOKING INTO HIS EMERALD EYES, THE ASGARDIAN LOOKING DOWN ON THE WOUND. (My sun and stars is wounded.)** Loki shrugs it off, too proud to let his guard down.  _"Me zisosh, zhey jalan atthirari anni,"_  he responds, brushing his wife's silver hair, seeing her turn around to another Dothraki man.  **(Only a scratch, moon of my life.)**   _"Finne koalaki?"_   **(Where are the healers?)**

"Jini osto afisi."  **(This is the bite of a fly.)**

_"Anha laz rhelak dothrakes vezhvena ha zisoshaan mae,"_ a woman says, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, her wild hair making Dany think over it, but her husband was hurt, and she hated him seeing him hurt.  **(I can the great rider with his cut.)**  She had gasped as a sword touched her chest, but it was the only other sound that came out of her mouth other than her words.  _"_ _Khal zigeree vo rhellay ha zafroon fini govi oqet,"_  Qotho says, looking at his Khal and Khaleesi.  **(The Khal needs no help from slaves that lie with sheep.)**

_"Me anni,"_  Daenerys seethes. _"Me vastoe."_ **(She's mine. Let her speak.)**

"Thank you, Silver Lady," the woman says, grinning down at the Targaryen, walking towards the wounded man. "Who are you?" Dany asks, Qotho stopping the unknown woman in her tracks with his curved blade, glaring down at her as the woman sighs. "I am named Mirri Maz Duur," the woman answers. "I was the godswife of this Temple."

_"Maegi."_ **(Witch.)** Qotho spits on the ground.

"My mother was Godswife here before me," Mirri begins."She taught me how to make healing smokes and ointments. All men are of one flock, so my people believe. The Great Shepherd sent me to Earth to heal his. . ." Qotho strikes her face, Dany looking away.  _"Ase sekke. Ase maegi izzi char."_   **(Too many words. A witch's words poison the ears.)**

"Lamb or lion," Mirri rubs her stinging jaw, looking at the Khaleesi, "his wound must be washed and sewn or it will fester." Dany turns to her spouse, pleading with her eyes.

  _"Azhas maan affisat zis yeri, shekh ma shieraki anni. Me azzisa anna jin tihat meyer qiyae."_ **(Let her clean your wounds, my sun and stars. It hurts me to see you bleed.)**


	13. 8. BLOOD MAGIC

**"HE'S BEYOND THE HEALER'S SKILLS," WAS SOMETHING DAENERYS DIDN'T WANT TO HEAR IN HER LIFE ABOUT HER HUSBAND, WANTING NOTHING MORE THAN FOR HIM TO BE STRONG AN HEALTHY, RIDING HIS HORSE AROUND THE CAMP TO LET IT STRETCH ITS LONG LEGS.**  Loki was on the bed, sweating profusely, dark circles around his eyes, mumbling nonsense to himself. He was talking to himself in the Norse language, telling himself that he should've used one of his own images, a clone of himself, instead of going straight into the fight without a second thought. "All I can do is ease his path." Path? Loki asks himself. What path? The only path she can be talking about is. . . the one of death, pain, and destruction, and he still doesn't know if his wife was going to make it through childbed. 

"Save him and l will free you. l swear it. You must know a way. Some – some magic."

Mirri stops her actions, looking down at the dying Khal, "There is a spell. Some would say death is cleaner." Dany didn't want death. She wanted life, rebirth, resurrection, whatever, anything but death. She's seen enough death, from her brother to her mother, though she didn't exactly  _witness_  that, she caused it. She sits on her haunches, watching her husband. "Do it," she orders. "Save him."

"There is a price."

"You'll have gold, whatever you want."

"It's not a matter of gold," Mirri shakes her dark head at the little naive princess. "This is blood magic. Only death pays for life." Dany faces the witch, bowing her head, scared out of her mind. "My death?" Mirri shakes her head, dispelling any fear from the Targaryen, "No, not your death, Khaleesi," she quickly glances down on Dany's large stomach. "Bring me his horse." Daenerys gives a curt nod to Irri, who leaves to grab her Khal's horse, the black mare protesting against the ropes, trying to escape from the tent's mouth. The Dothraki cut through the tent's fabric, leading in the maddened horse, Irri jumping up on the bed, trying to avoid the hooves. The horse gets on his hind legs, kicking his front ones, "Khaleesi, do not do this thing. Let me kill this witch." Dany places a hand on her pregnant belly, the fabric of her dress straining against the bulge. 

"Kill her and you kill you Khal."

"This is blood magic," Rakharo states in his thick accent, watching as Mirri places a stripe of blood on her forehead. "It is forbidden." 

"I am your Khaleesi, I tell you what is forbidden." Mirri begins to chant an incantation, walking around Loki's bed, taking the horse's reins in her hand. "Go. Now." Daenerys sighs, turning towards Rakharo, "Take her and leave. Take her!" The blood rider takes Irri by her elbow, ushering her out of the tent, Mirri turning towards her Khaleesi, "You must go also, Lady. Once l begin to sing, no one must enter the tent. The dead will dance here tonight." Daenerys takes one last long look at her husband, moving towards him, placing her hand on his sweaty forehead, caressing his beautiful hair that she loved to braid. "No one will enter." Mirri slits the mare's throat, the blood splattering all over Loki's hard pale chest, some of the blood coming down Dany's face, and the mare struggles as he loses blood. "Bring him back to me," Dany ordersbefore walking out, hearing the horse's struggles and the incantation Mirri begins to sing.

When she walks out of the tent, all of her khalasar stand around, watching her every bloody move, Jorah walking up to her, wearing his armor, mouth gaping. "What have you done?"

"I have to save him."

"We could have been 10 miles away from here by now," Jorah places a hand on Dany's shoulder, "on the way to Asshai. You would have been safe." Dany struggles, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the blood that dripped down her face in red, angry warm droplets. The horse screams, and she turns towards it; it sounded like what a dragon would sound like.  _"Jini'th vos eo,"_ Qotho walks through the crowd.  _"Jini'th vos eo."_   **(This must not be. This must not be.)**

_"Jini vee."_   **(This must be.)**

_"Maegi."_   **(Witch.)**

Rakharo speaks to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down, but Qotho brings his elbow back, forcing it into his nose, the shorter man falling down as he clutched his face.  _"Vos! Yer laz vos!"_   **(No! You can't!)**  Daenerys says as she runs over to her trusted friend, Qotho pushing her to the ground, stomach first, and the Khaleesi groans as Irri drops to her knees, "Khaleesi!" Jorah draws his sword, pointing at the back of Qotho,  _"Vos alle, zhey vezhak."_ **(No further, horselord.)**

Daenerys is groaning and gasping in pain as she clutches her stomach, Qotho turning around towards Jorah, glaring at him, readying himself for a fight, but just as easily as he ran towards the advisor, a sword was plunged into his stomach, the exact spot in which Dany held her baby. Loki could hear the commotion outside, the incantation meaning nothing to him, but his wife's moans of agony were. He wanted to be there, caressing her face to prevent her from focusing on her pain. Jorah sheathes his sword, making his way towards his Khaleesi, kneeling next to her, "Are you hurt?" 

"The baby. . ."

"Hm?"

". . . is coming."

"Fetch the midwives!" Jorah commands, placing Dany in his arms, Rakharo shaking his head. "They will not come. They say she is cursed."

"They'll come or I'll have their heads," Jorah stands up, Dany's cries of pain coming in louder. "The witch. . . she can bring baby. l hear her say so." The screams from inside the tent are turbulent, unstoppable, the sides shaking in the wind, and the last thing Dany sees is the tent consume them.


	14. 09. WHAT IT WAS YOU SAVED

**DANY LOOKS DOWN AT HER HUSBAND,**  leaning in to place a kiss on his lips, Mirri beginning to speak. "He lives," the witch says to her. "You asked for life, you paid for life." Daenerys turns to her, glaring up at the darker woman. "This is not life," she declares, "when will he be as he was?" She faces her husband again, raising a hand to brush his face, watching his catatonic expression. He was out of it, lips a pale shade, skin damp, "When the sun rises in the west, sets in the east. When the seas go dry. When the mountains blow in the wind like leaves." The answer was never. He was never going to live a normal life, and it was all Dany's fault for trusting a witch, yet she didn't want to admit it to herself, only wanting to feel hope, but right now, she only felt despair. Mirri walks away, leaving Jorah, Rakharo, Irri, and Dany to themselves, mulling over her words, Dany turning back to Loki. Jorah, Rakharo, and Irri. It was them three that had stuck by Dany's side after her husband's fall, the others walking away in search of a new Khal. A Khal must be strong in order to be a Khal. 

She stands up shakily, still in pain from yesterday's events, "Leave us." She begins following Mirri, but Jorah places a hand on hers, stopping her in her tracks. "I don't want you alone with this sorceress," he shakes his head.

"I have nothing more to fear from this woman," she looks down at Loki. "Go." She walks away to the spot the maegi was sitting, playing with a stick, the others walking off, Mirri glancing up at her. "You knew what I was buying and you knew the price," Dany begins. Mirri stops. "lt was wrong of them to burn my temple," Mirri responds, gazing up at Dany. "lt angered the Great Shepherd."

"This is not God's work," Dany states, anger and hatred filling her veins, glaring down at the witch. "My child was innocent."

"lnnocent?" Mirri mocks, her fingers returning to work on the stick. "He would have been The Stallion Who Mounts The World. Now he will burn no cities. Now his khalasar will trample no nations into dust." 

"I spoke for you, I  _saved_  you."

"Saved me? Three of those riders had already raped me  _before_  you saved me, girl. l saw my god's house burn," Mirri stands up, "there where l had healed men and women beyond counting. ln the streets l saw piles of heads, the head of the baker who makes my bread, the head of a young boy that l had cured of fever just three moons past. So tell me again exactly what it was that you saved?"

"Your life."

"Why don't you take a look at your Khal. Then you will see exactly what life is worth when all the rest has gone."

  ♕♕♕  

Across the Narrow Sea, Dany is tending to Loki's wounds inside a yurt, squeezing out any water from inside the rag she held, picking up his arm to clean it.  _"Hash yer vineseri dothrakh ataki kishi, zhey shekh ma shieraki anni?"_  She leans down over him.  _"Hash yer laz chari anna; hash yer ray vos o, attihas anna."_  No response from him.  _"Yer lajak. Yer ayyeyoon lajakoon. Anha zigerek yeroon lajat ajjin."_ When the rag reaches his wrist, she stops, pulling it away, Dany noticing something.  _"Anha know yeri're sekke hezhah away, vosma come save to anna, tih shekh ma stars."_  She turns his head towards her, his pale green eyes looking elsewhere. He felt cold to the touch, colder than usual, and Dany wanted to know what it was. She drew in her eyebrows, pulling her hand away, taking a deep breath as she places it on her husband's chest. **(Do you remember our first ride, my sun and stars? If you are still in there, if you haven't gone away, show me. You're a fighter, you've always been a fighter, I need you to fight now. I know you're very far away, but come back to me, my sun and stars.)**

She lays next to him, laying her head on his arm, running her fingers across the smooth skin of Loki's creamy chest. She begins crying, knowing what she must do, "When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. Then you shall return to me, my sun and stars." She looks up at him, getting up on her hands and knees, and crawls up to his face, placing a tender kiss on his lips, salty tears mingling between them. She reaches for a pillow, and places it over his face, smothering him with it, her fingers spreading across the fabric, pressing it hard over him, crying as she hears him try to breathe. His hands jump slightly, his body convulsing. 

The Khal was dead.


	15. 10. EPILOGUE

**IT WAS THE DAY.**  The day in which her husband was going to be burned on a pyre along with Mirri Maz Duur and the baby boy she had given birth to, the baby hanging limply in a blood rider's hand. He was born dead multiple days before and he was yet to be buried, his stench making the camp smell rotten and foul. Loki was wrapped tightly in a blanket, swaddled, his head cleared, Rakharo picking up Daenerys' dragon eggs. It was her fault, Dany thought. If she hadn't trusted a witch, Loki would still be alive. She should've just gotten a healer to restore him. If she wasn't so naive, both Loki and Rhaego would've been alive.

Dany wore her wedding dress, her hair styled into four braids put into one, her skirt fluttering in the wind, winding around her limbs.  _"Is jinak yeri ase, Khaleesi?"_  Rakharo asks her, watching her nod curtly to him, and he turns around and makes his way towards the pyre, Jorah stepping up beside her. **(Is this your command, Khaleesi?)**  "Loki will have no use for dragon eggs in the Night Lands. Sell them. You can return to the Free Cities and live as a wealthy woman for all your days." 

"They were not given to me to sell," Dany protests, observing Rakharo as he puts the eggs near Loki's head, Jorah turning his body towards her, trying to make her change her mind. "Khaleesi," Jorah starts, "my Queen, l vow to serve you, obey you, to die for you if need be, but let him go, Khaleesi. l know what you intend. Do not." He sees Dany's violet-blue eyes flick over to him, the Khaleesi shaking her head, "I must. You don't understand."

"Don't ask me to stand aside as you climb on that pyre," Jorah counters, giving his head a slight shake. "I won't watch you burn." 

"Is that what you fear?" Dany gives him a small smile and a peck on the cheek, Jorah taking it as a sign of goodbye, but Dany meant it as reassurance, and then she faces the rest of the khalasar and the Lhazareen who have stayed with her. "You will be my khalasar," Dany addressed to the people in front of her. "l see the faces of slaves. l free you. Take off your collars. Go if you wish, no one will stop you. But if you stay it will be as brothers and sisters, as husbands and wives." People walk away, taking their belongings and horses, leaving the few that were still loyal to her, Mirri smiling down at the terrain at the spectacle. "Ser Jorah, bind this woman to the pyre." She sees him hesitate from the corner of her eye, and she looks at him. "You swore to obey me." She reminds him, making him nod and pick up Mirri by her shoulders, taking her to the wooden structure. "l am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen of the blood of old Valyria. I am the Dragon's daughter. And I swear to you that those who would harm you will die screaming."

"You will not hear me scream!" Mirri yells at her from her post.

"I will, but it's not your screams I want, only your life." Only death can pay for life, Mirri had told her in the tent not too long ago, but now, a life is paying for life and death. Mirri, Rhaego, and Loki are going to be the people who bring her dragons to life, two were taken by revenge from a witch, and one was taken by revenge from a dragon. Dany takes the torch from Rakharo, taking it over to the circle of wood, and touches the tip to the desiccated lumber, the wood immediately going into flames. It travels down, lighting up the night sky, Mirri beginning to chant an incantation, feeling the heat come ever so close to her, coming closer by the second, the khalasar and Lhazareen people watching the sight with both interest and pleasure, the maegi's chanting turning into screaming once the flames touch her skin, making it boil and bubble, peeling off in chunks as it becomes too much. 

Dany doesn't care, she wants vengeance for what she did to her newborn family, Jorah looking down at Dany with concern, wondering if she was turning into the Mad King. Dany glances at her advisor before beginning to walk towards the fire, Mirri's screams coming in louder, her skin and muscle peeling off to reveal the whites of her bones, her legs already halfway gone while her upper body was just beginning to boil. The Khaleesi walks through the first ring without a problem, not one sound coming out of her mouth, her eyes staring straight ahead. Jorah turns away as soon as he sees his Queen's dress catch on fire, not wanting to witness her death, Mirri's screams ceasing as she died.

Dany was now covered in flames, reaching the pyre on which her family laid, sitting down in the middle, watching the logs in interest as they burned.

   ♕♕♕  

It was daytime when the fire had stopped, the men and women lying about, some waking up from their sleep, others sitting as they had woken up an hour ago. Jorah walked through them, making his way towards the burning site, making sure to avoid stepping on fingers or toes, Rakharo and another blood rider following close behind him to see anything from their Khaleesi. Within five hours into the burning, Loki's body had fallen into ashes, Rhaego's roasting away within an hour, and Mirri. . . Dany didn't want to think about her any longer. She had gotten her revenge. There was still smoke flying into the air, making their eyes water and their noses sting, Dany hiding behind a pile of unburned logs, hiding her from plain site.

Her head was rested on her hand, her legs crossed, and her back hunched over, and when she feels Jorah's presence, she looks up at him, ashes covering her. It was a combination of her husband's, Rhaego's, Mirri's and wood ashes that covered here from head to toe, and when she straightens up, her breasts are on full display, Rakharo's eyes widening at the sight. She carried something in her arm, something that cooed, something else crawling up her back. Dany wondered why Rakharo's eyes were widened, wondering if he had ever laid with a woman until she remembered that he could see the baby dragons and that he was somewhat intimidated at the fact that a short, tiny girl was able to survive a fire without a burn. 

She looked over her shoulder at the black and red dragon, feeling it dig its nails into her skin for purchase, but she didn't feel the pain. She didn't feel anything. The dragon at her shoulder let out a meager short screech, looking at his surroundings. Jorah drops to his knee, bowing his head, "Blood of my blood." Dany stands up, pushing off the ground with her right hand, carrying a green dragon with her left as another crawled up her leg. The khalasar and Lhazareens all bowed before her, pressing their foreheads to the ground, the black and red dragon placing his feet on Dany's shoulder as his mother looked around. The dragon stretched his little wings, standing up on his hind legs, and lets out a screech at the people, and the cries of the dragons filled the day, letting everybody know that dragons were here and their mother stood among them, an unstoppable force. 

They were all going to take what is theirs with  _fire and blood._

 


	16. SEQUEL PREVIEW

❝  _My home is across the sea, where my people are waiting for me_. ❞

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**COPYRIGHT © ANCIENTSOULS 201**

_ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS PUBLICATION MAY BE REPRODUCED, DISTRIBUTED, OR TRANSMITTED BY ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, INCLUDING PHOTOCOPYING, REWRITING, HE OR OTHER ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL METHODS, WITHOUT THE PRIOR WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER, EXCEPT IN THE CASE OF BRIEF QUOTATIONS EMBODIED IN CRITICAL REVIEWS AND CERTAIN OTHER NONCOMMERCIAL USES PERMITTED BY COPYRIGHT LAW. I DO NOT OWN DAENERYS, THE GAME OF THRONES PLOT, BESIDES THE PLOTS THAT I MAKE UP ALONG THE WAY, AND I DO NOT OWN LOKI AND THE THOR MOVIES._

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**WARNING: THIS BOOK MIGHT FEATURE STRONG CONTENT MEANT FOR MATURE AUDIENCES.**

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**_BOOK TWO OF THE DRAGON MOTHER SERIES._ **

**_FEATURES:_ **

_GAME OF THRONES SEASON 2 + THOR (2011)_

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